


I'm Never Nice!

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [37]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Injuries, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-20 02:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Dr Fell's students looked up as someone entered, hoping to spot the elusive Dear Anthony, but it was only Dr Crowley, after all.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 37
Kudos: 1520
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	I'm Never Nice!

Tom found Dr Crowley leaning against the wall, waiting for the lift, hands jammed in pockets. He thought he recognised the source of tension in the rigid body and the forced steadiness of Dr Crowley's breathing, but the eyes that might have confirmed it were, as usual, hidden. His mouth, however, had twisted and tightened into something very like a sneer, only now it was white-lipped, and lines deepened at the corners.

Tom started to stretch out a slow hand, but a slight headshake stopped him. Instead, he said quietly, "You heard about Dr Fell getting hurt?" For just a moment, he got a sense of world-shattering grief, fear, and rage. Then it vanished, reeled back under tight controls, and the casual mask returned.

Dr Crowley gave a single curt nod, and added without other preamble, "How bad is it?"

"He's going to be fine. No breaks, just a badly sprained leg and some spectacular bruising."

Dr Crowley's breath of relief was almost hidden by the lift arriving.

Tom only saw it because he was looking for it. He asked, not bothering to add detail or explanation, "Space or company?"

"Do you know where they took him?"

"Yeah..."

"Well then, lead on. Make it company."

Tom trailed after him into the lift. He thought the stairs would be quicker, but he wasn't about to quibble with a professor. Particularly not when that professor was Dr Crowley.

Once the lift was on its way, Dr Crowley asked, his tight-lipped mouth in stark contrast to his slouch against the rail, "Did you see what happened?"

Tom shook his head. "Heard he tripped on the stairs."

"Same." The mouth tightened further with a muttered, "Least it wasn't a fire again," which Tom suspected he wasn't supposed to hear and a slightly louder, "Appreciate you asking, by the way," which he definitely was.

He said nothing, only led the way out when the doors opened, curbing his pace to match Dr Crowley's saunter. He stopped by the door to the classroom Dr Fell's students had taken him to and nodded at it.

Dr Crowley nodded back and said shortly, "Thanks." Then he took a long breath, squared bony shoulders, and pushed open the door.

***

Dr Fell's students looked up as someone entered, hoping to spot the elusive Dear Anthony, but it was only Dr Crowley, after all.

He sauntered slowly across to where Dr Fell sat, appropriated a chair for himself, and asked with apparent casualness, "What you done to yourself this time, then?"

"Afraid I've rather made a mess of things," Dr Fell replied quietly. "I mis-stepped and fell up the stairs. Had my arms full of books, so I couldn't catch myself."

"You and your books," Dr Crowley sighed.

The students bristled in Dr Fell's defence, because how dare even evil Dr Crowley mock dear Dr Fell, now of all times? What was he even doing here? They bristled even more when Dr Crowley dared to reach out and lay a hand on Dr Fell's shoulder.

Dr Fell just turned his head and looked Dr Crowley in the dark glasses, and both their expressions flickered as they stared at each other. It ended with Dr Crowley's shoulders sagging just a little, and Dr Fell's mouth taking on the smallest of smiles.

The students looked at each other in barely disguised triumph that Dr Fell had clearly won the stare-down. They almost missed the moment when Dr Fell lifted Dr Crowley's hand off his shoulder and clasped it in his own hands instead.

Dr Crowley twisted in his seat at the offended intake of breath, leg now stuck out in front of him, free arm draped over the back, and gave them all a half-strength glare. "If you can't stand seeing a man hold his husband's hand," he snarled, "get. out."

"Anthony Crowley," Dr Fell scolded. "That's not nice!"

The shocked students fled with their new knowledge, as the door cut off Dr Crowley's, "I'm never nice! Nice is..."


End file.
